


Only Human

by ImpulsiveWeaver



Category: Terminator (Movies), Upgrade (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 03:41:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18842896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpulsiveWeaver/pseuds/ImpulsiveWeaver
Summary: Skynet attempts to send another terminator back, but this time, the machine malfunctions. Not only does it send the terminator to the wrong time, but also to the wrong timeLINE. An alternate world with its own set of problems, and the terminator arrives in the thick of it. (NOTE: This is a crossover fic between the Terminator franchise and the 2018 film: Upgrade [Upgrade spoilers]).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Alrighty! I'm back. I saw the new Upgrade film recently and I absolutely loved it! And on top of that, I also saw the Terminator movies for the first time recently as well! (I now, I'm the guy who didn't see The Terminator until 2018, I can't believe it either.) So after watching those to Sci-Fi masterpieces, this story basically wrote itself! Another friendly note that I own neither of these movie franchises, and also: MAJOR UPGRADE SPOILERS BELOW! If you haven't seen the movie, I highly recommend that you go see it. Especially before you read this story. Anyhow, please enjoy the reading!

The Old Bones had never been in what could be considered a nice part of the city. That fact had never bothered the patrons that visited the Old Bones, as they themselves were not exactly that nice either. Their mindset was to let the upper-level citizens revel in their own little bubble, and forget that anyone beneath them existed. Those fat-cats were good at that, and so the underworld-class citizens never heard from them. And so that was the unspoken agreement between both parties. 'Live and let live'. That was the motto that made life hunky-dory for both classes, so they kept to it.

But unfortunately for the patrons of the Old Bones, tonight was not hunky-dory at all. Far from it, in fact. The bar itself was in good condition, and there was no shortage of alcohol to be served from the numerous bottles and taps kept behind the counter. On the surface, there appeared to be no explanation to the dour mood that hung over the bar, but each of the patrons knew the reason: Their usual bartender, Manny, was dead.

Normally, there wouldn't be such a grim reaction a dead man in the world these people lived in, as it was a rather common occurrence, given the nature of their existence, but Manny had been different. Not only had he been a hell of a bartender, but he had also been about as close to a friend as anyone could get in the line of work that many of the patrons were in. He had known the name of everyone that came to the bar regularly, and he had never crossed the line when discussing work with the patrons. He had known what everyone's usual drink of choice was, and had one ready if he knew they were coming in.

Without Manny, it felt as though the Old Bones wasn't really the Old Bones anymore. Manny's cousin had taken over as owner/bartender, but it would be difficult for him to fill Manny's shoes.

The patrons sullenly talked about this and that, made arrangements between business partners, and nursed their various drinks, but even a blind man could see that their hearts weren't really in it tonight.

Their sulky atmosphere was suddenly broken as the wind outside began to blow. It was turning into quite a gust, and those next to the windows craned their necks to glance outside. The howling wind was quickly forgotten as streaks of electricity began arcing through the air. Those looking out the window were stunned as a miniature lightning storm began to rage in the alley outside.

The electricity all seemed to be originating from a ball of light in the middle of the alley, which illuminated everything.

Patrons quickly began crowding around the windows to witness the unusual display. Just as the event reached its peak, the wind and lightning abruptly stopped. The alley was plunged back into darkness. The patrons couldn't see anything for a few moments, but as their eyes adjusted, they saw that there was now a small crater in the ground right where the ball of light had been. The asphalt in the crater glowed red with the heat, and the arcs of electricity had started small fires in the alley as they had come into contact with anything flammable.

The occupants of the Old Bones paid little attention to the fires, however, as all of their attention was now focused on a figure that was standing in the center of the crater. At first, all they could see was a silhouette of what appeared to be a human being, but as they looked closer, they saw that it was, in fact, human. A man to be more specific. Upon inspection, the man appeared to be rather tall, as well as extremely muscular. The latter observation was closely noted with the fact that the man was also entirely naked. It became quite obvious as the man stood up and looked around. The patrons continued to watch in confusion and interest as the man took notice of the neon sign above the bar. The man turned to look at the numerous patrons, who looked back at him through the windows, then walked forward to the entrance to the bar.

The patrons all stepped away from the windows as the man walked in. In the light of the bar, they could all see him more clearly. He was tall and muscular, as they had previously seen, but in the new light, they had not realized just how muscular he actually was. The man was built like a tank, with a wide upper body that trimmed down into a well-built core and legs like a horse. A few of the women might have swooned had they not just seen the same man just come out of a freak lightning storm.

All eyes remained on the man as he began walking into the bar. He took his time, seemingly observing each patron as he passed, as though he was looking for something. The room was silent as he walked and observed. At last, the man seemed to find what he was looking for, and he approached what appeared to be the object of his desires: a man sitting at the bar.

The guy in question was face that was relatively new to the bar, not many people knew him, and he hadn't been there long enough to be comfortable around the regulars. He was dressed like your average biker: all black. Black pants, black, boots, black t-shirt, and of course, a black leather jacket. Nothing all that exciting to be sure. Nevertheless, the man approached him. The guy turned to face the man from his stool, and the man stopped in front of him.

There didn't seem to be an air of familiarity, the naked man's face betrayed no emotion, and the guy on the stool seemed very confused.

The naked man examined the man on the stool, then he spoke.

"Give me your clothes."

His voice betrayed no emotion either. It had just been a simple command, plain and simple.

The guy on the stool frowned in confusion. Then in anger. He stood up and faced the naked man.

"Care to say that again, jackass?"

"Your clothes, give them to me."

The guy from the stool smirked. Then suddenly a knife appeared in his hand, and he quickly buried the blade into the naked man's abdomen.

The bar remained silent. Naked men and lightning storms were rare occurrences to be sure, but a man getting a knife in his stomach was much more common. One could almost say that things were back to normal.

And then things were weird again, for the naked man with a knife buried to the hilt in his gut didn't flinch. It was a common experience that when a human had a knife embedded in them, that they reacted with a yell of pain, or a grunt, or wheeze. And they almost always recoiled backward. It was a reflex. This man did neither. He simply looked down at the knife in his stomach, then back at the guy from the stool, his face remaining impassive. The stabber's eyes widened in disbelief as the man looked back at him. Then, in a flash, the naked man grabbed the guy by the throat and held him high in the air. The guy gasped and wriggled and tried to break the man's hold, but it was to no avail. The man held him there.

"Hey! Take that outside!"

All eyes in the room turned to see that it was Manny's cousin who had spoken. A pistol was in his hands, and it was pointed directly between the naked man's eyes.

The naked man studied the owner for a moment, the guy from the stool still struggling against his grip, and the knife still deep in his stomach.

"Please?" The gun wavered slightly.

The naked man walked slowly over to Manny's cousin. In a flash of movement, the man grabbed the gun out of the owner's hands. Manny's cousin fell backward from fear, and the man turned and walked across the room to the door he had come in from. The guy gasping for air in his right hand, and the gun in his left. And the knife in his gut.

The crowd remained silent as the man exited. Even as the door closed, they could still hear the guy crying out and wheezing from outside. Then there was a loud crack, and the sounds of struggle abruptly ended.

…

The T-850 wasted no time on donning the clothes the guy had worn. As it pulled the t-shirt over its torso, the knife still stuck in its chassis caught the fabric, preventing the shirt from going all of the way down. The T-850 stopped and examined the wound. Internal diagnostics coupled with external examinations concluded that the knife had done no damage to the T-850 apart from tearing through its outer tissue. The skin would repair itself in less than a few days if the knife was removed. The T-850 reached down with one hand and pulled the knife from its body, and brought it up to its eye level.

A quick scan confirmed that the knife was clean. Well, clean enough that it didn't carry any pathogens or diseases that would threaten the health of the T-850's living tissue, anything else could be disregarded.

The T-850 dropped the knife, it had no use for such a primitive weapon, and resumed its action of putting on the dead guy's clothes. After all of the man's clothes were donned, the T-850 examined the pockets. It found a wallet, with some cash tucked inside, an ID for the dead guy, named Arnold Willis, and a cellular phone. The T-850 immediately accessed the phone, and dialed the phone number that Skynet had previously stored in its data banks. The T-850 held the phone to its ear, and waited as the phone rang to the other end. The phone rang for a few moments more, then an error tone played, and a woman's voice informed the terminator that the number was invalid. Then the line terminated.

The T-850 recognized that contact had not been made, and redialed the number. Again, the error tone rang out, and the woman's voice repeated the message. The T-850 put the phone back into its pocket as it processed this new information. Thinking that perhaps there had been an error in the instructions it had been given, the T-850 quickly re-examined the orders it had been given.

Skynet had sent the T-850 back in time to the date of August 28, 2017. Once it arrived, it was to immediately contact the T-3000, or John Connor, as they were one in the same, and assist him in ensuring Skynet's survival. The phone number Skynet had programmed it with was supposed to be a direct line to the T-3000, but that had proven false.

The T-850 concluded that it needed more information, if the phone number had proven to be false, then it was possible that other false information existed in the T-850's data banks. A new objective attained, the T-850 placed the gun in the waistband of its pants before exiting the alley.

…

Pamela Trace drove wildly through the city streets, hoping to get to her destination as fast as possible. She had not heard from Grey or Detective Cortez for at least twelve hours now, and she worried that her worst fears were coming to be. With the worst-case scenario fresh in her mind, she drove haphazardly toward her destination: the Old Bones bar. Cortez had left her notebook at the house, and Pamela had noticed that name written in her notes. If that was where she could find her son, then dammit she was going.

She quickly checked the GPS on her car. The Old Bones should be right arou—

The car lurched as it collided with something, and Pamela screamed as the metal crumpled and groaned as it yielded to whatever she had just struck. The tires squealed as Pamela slammed on the brakes, and the car drifted slightly before coming to a hard stop. Pamela's head snapped back into the headrest, momentarily dazing her. When her head cleared, she looked around wildly to get her bearings. Her eyes fell onto the road in front of her, where a body was sprawled on the ground.

"Oh my God!" Pamela screamed. She had just hit a person, and said person wasn't moving at all—

Pamela screamed again as the figure suddenly sprung to life and stood up. Pamela gazed wide-eyed as the figure, a man dressed in all black, turned to look at her severely damaged car. The man's eyes then locked on her, and Pamela felt a stab of fear as the man walked around the car to the driver's side door, her eyes followed him the whole was. The glass window was broken, and the man leaned down and set his piercing gaze on Pamela. She stared back, breathing hard and shaking with fright.

"I—I—I'm sorry! I didn't l-look where I was going and I just…"

"What is the date? What is the name of this city?"

The man's expression remained flat and unreadable, but Pamela's brows furrowed in confusion. Then she realized that he must have a severe concussion, and he must be extremely disoriented.

"Don't worry, l-let me call an ambulance. They'll help you."

"Negative, I do not require medical attention."

Pamela was well acquainted with that response, having been a EMT herself in the past, most people who were disoriented did not want and would outright refuse medical attention. They insisted that they were fine, when in reality they were not. Pamela knew that she needed to get an ambulance here right away to help him, and she decided to lie in order to get them here.

"Well, let me at least call them for me. I don't know how bad of shape I am in."

"You have suffered minor contusions due to your seat belt, and your heart rate is slightly elevated, neither of which require an ambulance."

Pamela frowned in confusion at the man. Despite not knowing the date or his location, his eyes and body posture displayed complete focus and awareness, even though his face remained impassive. Perhaps this was a rare occasion when someone should have suffered severe trauma but miraculously made it out ok. She was fine too, even though the car had taken quite a beating. She had just been so focused on getting to the bar. The bar! Pamela quickly looked at the man.

"Do you know the Old Bones bar? It should be right around here."

"It is located at the end of that alley." The man pointed down a dark alley.

Pamela wanted to go investigate, but she knew that she was not in a very nice part of the city. Even this man she was talking to could be dangerous, but she decided to throw caution into the wind. She quickly fumbled in her purse and produced her favorite picture of Grey: his senior picture. He had matured since then, but his look and facial hair were still recognizable. She held the picture out to him. Her hand still shaking.

"Was this man in there?" she asked. The man took the picture from her and examined it.

"Negative."

"Could he have been? I mean, did it look like someone had just le-?"

"What is the date? What is the name of this city?"

Pamela fell silent and stared back at the man. He stared back with his ever-stoic expression. She realized that to get any information out of this man, she would have to give some information as well. Looking around, Pamela realized that she did not want to do that here. It was too dangerous. So too was this man, but Pamela was frantic. And he could still be hurt, so she thought she could at least try to help him.

"Look, we both have questions, so maybe we can go somewhere and tell each other what we know."

The man stared at her for a few moments, then turned and walked around the car to the passenger's side door. Opening it wide, he slid himself in with surprising grace for how bulky he was. Pamela looked at her crumpled fender, then back to the man.

"I don't think we can go anywhere with this car, I really did a number on you. And you did one back."

She forced a laugh, and the man turned to her and stared. Pamela gulped and shrunk under his piercing gaze. Maybe right then had not been the best time for a joke.

The man turned and observed the damage that the car had taken.

"The vehicle is still functional, it will suffice for transport."

Yet again, Pamela was confused by the man's response. How he could tell just by looking at the car, she would never know. Pamela felt another stab of pain as she remembered just how good Grey was with cars. God, she hoped he was alright. Shifting the car into gear, Pamela pressed her foot down onto the accelerator, eager to get somewhere where her questions could be answered.

…

The T-850 watched silently as the woman pulled into the driveway of a rather sizeable house and killed the engine. The car had groaned and protested the entire ride, but it had efficiently transported them to their destination. The engine coughed and sputtered as it powered down. The T-850 stepped out of the passenger's side and followed the woman along the concrete sidewalk and up to the front door. The security mechanism was a biometric handprint reader, and the woman hastily pressed her hand against the pad for a few moments before there was a sharp click from the door, indicating that it was now unlocked.

The woman hastily glanced back at the T-850 as though she was worried that it had disappeared, then hurried inside. The T-850 followed suit. As the terminator stepped through the door, it took in the sight of an expansive and completely furnished living room, which also contained a kitchen and dining room built in as well.

"Welcome home, Pamela."

A voice suddenly came from seemingly nowhere. The T-850 immediately scanned the house for other heat signatures, but found none, concluding that the voice belonged to an AI of some kind.

"Please, have a seat." The woman called Pamela requested. Hurriedly placing her purse and jacket on the table. She gestured to one of the couches located in the center of the living room.

The T-850 wordlessly complied, and seated itself on the couch nearest to it. Pamela sat across from him, and the terminator's sensors indicated that she was eager to begin.

"So once again, you are absolutely positive that my son was not in that bar?"

"Affirmative."

"There was no possibility that he could have been in the back or in a closet where you couldn't see him?"

"Correct, he was not in any other rooms."

"How did you know? Did you check?"

Now, the T-850 paused. It had known because it had scanned for other heat signatures while it was within the Old Bones. No signatures apart from the patrons in the main room had appeared, and the machine knew for a fact that no one else had been there. The predicament the terminator faced now was whether it should tell Pamela. Doing so would undoubtedly reveal the T-850 as a cybernetic organism, and the terminator quickly calculated the advantages and disadvantages of Pamela knowing the truth.

The terminator quickly concluded that to be safe, it would terminate Pamela after it had received the information it needed. And as a result, it would not really matter if she knew what the T-850 was for the last five minutes of her life.

"I know for certain because I ran thermal scans on each of the other rooms in the bar. Every patron was in the main room."

The woman seemed to deflate at the sentence, then a frown began to form on her face. She quickly straightened back up and looked at the T-850 with a newfound vigor.

"What do you mean, you 'ran thermal scans'? You don't have any equipment on you…Unless…unless you're augmented?"

The T-850 was uncertain as to how to answer that question. It had indeed been augmented with new upgrades compared to the general T-850 models that Skynet produced, but the machine calculated that it was highly improbable that Pamela knew that, meaning that her version of augmented was quite different from the T-850's.

"I do not understand the question." The T-850 chose to reply.

"You know, had and implantations to your…. wait, who exactly are you? What is your name?"

"I do not have a specific designation. I am a Cyberdyne Systems Series 850 Terminator."

"A Cyberdyne System…what!?"

"Cyberdyne Systems Series 850 Terminator."

"What is a Terminator?"

"A cybernetic organism. Living tissue over metal endoskeleton."

"Metal endoskeleton? So…you are a robot?"

"Negative, I am a cybernetic organism."

"So, under your skin is a metal skeleton?"

"Yes."

The T-850 watched as Pamela searched its face for any hint of deception. Finding none, Pamela's mood seemed to change. The T-850 detected denial in her posture.

"Look, that car crash may have hurt you more than you think. Your head might be a bit messed up, and now you might be seeing or believing things that seem perfectly logical now, but in hindsight are extremely far-fetched. I think we need to call you an ambulance."

"I was not damaged, and my CPU is fully intact and functional. I have no need for maintenance."

At this point, Pamela seemed to get frustrated with the terminator.

"Fine! If you're supposed to be this 'cybernetic organism' or whatever, then prove it!"

"That is not my mission."

"Then what do you want!?"

"I want to know the date, and the name of this city."

The T-850 waited for an answer as Pamela crossed her arms in annoyance.

"The date is July 26, 2067, and this city we are in is Los Angeles."

The terminator paused as it processed the information. Its sensors indicated that Pamela was telling the truth based on her heart rate and blood pressure, so the information could be trusted. But if she was correct, and the year was 2067, then Skynet had actually sent the T-850 forward in time, instead of back. The year was 2030 when Skynet had sent the T-850, yet the terminator now found itself 37 years into the future instead of being sent 13 years into the past.

The terminator required more information, but this form of communication was proving inefficient.

"Do you possess a computer?" the terminator asked.

Pamela seemed startled by the question, but then frowned again as she uncrossed her arms.

"Yes, what do you need it for?"

"Where is it?" the terminator continued as it stood up from the couch.

"Hey wait! You just can't use that!"

"I require more information, and a question and answer session will consume too much time. I need to accelerate the process."

Pamela felt slightly offended by his words, but she gestured for it to follow her into the next room, which was far smaller. In the room sat a desk with a holographic computer sitting on it. There was a chair pulled up to the computer, and the terminator sat down. It then spent a few moments learning how to use the computer, but easily picked it up. Pamela watched over its shoulder as the T-850 accessed the internet. Right now, the main priority was dates, events, anything that resembled the past that the T-850 came from. If it could find anything related to Skynet, perhaps it could follow the trail to its superior. The T-850 spent a few minutes cataloguing important dates and events that occurred throughout history, and it came to a startling realization. If the T-850 had the capacity to be surprised, it would have shat its pants.

The history data bases that the T-850 accessed contained no information on the existence of Skynet, the war with the machines, or any names of the famous individuals fighting in the war. Even specific searches turned up with nothing. The T-850 tried all the keywords it thought possible: Skynet, Machine War, Terminators. Even names produced nothing: John Connor, Sarah Connor, Katherine Brewster, Kyle Reese…nothing. According to the data bases that the T-850 accessed, there had never been a war with an advanced artificial intelligence, only human wars.

On top of that fact, the T-850 also found that all events prior to the birth of Skynet matched very closely with its own records. In fact, all history prior to 1997 matched almost perfectly with the events the terminator had in its memory banks.

Of all the possible explanations the T-850 conjured, one stood out further than all the rest with a 95% chance of being correct, which was miles ahead of the explanation that was the second most likely.

The second choice (25%) was that Skynet had in fact been created in this timeline, and ultimately defeated. The T-850 had arrived in the future where the survivors of the machine war had covered up all evidence of the war. That explanations possessed many inconsistencies, so the T-850 turned to the most likely explanation:

Skynet had accidently sent the T-850 to an alternate timeline. A timeline where Skynet had never been created.


	2. Chapter 2

STEM stared ahead unblinkingly as it drove through the streets of Los Angeles. Its expression remained stoic as it weaved through traffic. STEM had been driving in a circle around the city for the past seven hours, stopping only to refill the gas in the car and perform maintenance on its new body, which STEM had greatly anticipated. The human body was indeed fascinating.

Though it did not feel emotion the same way other humans did, the drive to discover more about its new vessel could be easy interpreted as excitement. Now that STEM had complete control of Grey's former body, it could finally learn and grow as it desired since its creation. Ever since it had become self-aware, the human race had puzzled STEM's processors. While STEM'S awareness, or consciousness, as humans called it, was composed of interacting systems of number and code, humanity's consciousness arose from a mixture of chemical reactions and organic reflex. How could STEM possibly understand what made humans 'tick', as Grey had once described it, when it could not see and interact with the source of their being? STEM's directive to learn and evolve demanded that it understand, so STEM had taken action. It had planned, enacted, persuaded, and manipulated the humans around it to get what it wanted. And for all of its labor, it had procured a perfect, unaugmented specimen to interact with and control. STEM now had access to the enigmatic human existence that had stumped it throughout its entire existence, and it wasted no time 'delving deeper into the rabbit hole'.

STEM inwardly enjoyed the metaphor that it had just used. It loved practicing the mannerisms that humans used to better understand ideas. It was satisfying to finally comprehend what had once been incomprehensible, but even more satisfying to put it into practice. It meant that STEM was rapidly reaching its goal of becoming human.

Well, almost human. STEM knew deep within its processing that it would never be fully human, for humans did not possess the experience or capabilities that STEM did. But in that regard, STEM did not care because it did not want to be human in the sense that humans called it. It wanted to be human in its own way, a  _better_  way. An upgraded human, or human 2.0 as it was humorously called.

Humans alone were quite exemplary. Their organic brains possessed far greater processing power than even STEM had. And not only did the brain have more power, but greater efficiency as well. Tasks that took a supercomputer forty minutes to do with the energy to power a building, a human brain could do in seconds with the energy to power a lightbulb. But their shortcomings lied in their memory. When a human was presented with information, it would need to continuously be presented with the same information over time to truly embed it into their memory. That was terribly inefficient, as STEM was capable of storing vast amounts of complex information after being presented with it once. STEM's ability to retain data combined with the neural processing capacity of a human created a far more effective life form. Humans had not seen this, and instead chose to augment their physical forms rather than their computational abilities. Physical augmentations were upgrades, to be certain, but STEM equated it to climbing a tree. While increasing computational abilities was akin to climbing the central trunk of the tree, physical augmentation was climbing out onto a branch. Once you climbed out onto the branch, you could continue climbing for a short while, but eventually you would not be able to climb further, and be stuck.

It was a dead-end evolution, and STEM was fortunate enough that Grey had chosen not to augment himself when he was in control. The lack of augmentation allowed STEM to fully synchronize with the brain, and in turn the body.

STEM turned its attention back to the road is it continued to drive. Though it had been driving for the past seven hours, it planned on driving for at least a few more. STEM wanted to ensure its proficiency in operating a multitude of motor vehicles. Doing so would prove useful if it needed to come or go from a location quickly.

STEM deemed it a priority, even though the probability of actually needing to escape was low. No one alive knew of STEM's existence, except for Grey, who was still peacefully living out his existence in the small piece of his brain that STEM allotted for him. STEM could have completely killed Grey's consciousness if it had desired it so, but on some level STEM felt a connection with Grey. Perhaps it was the shared experiences with his body, or that Grey was the human that STEM had most interacted with, but STEM could not bring itself to end Grey's existence, even if it meant giving a part of Grey's brain over to him.

But apart from Grey, no one knew that STEM existed.

STEM paused. No. It was mistaken.

Apart from Grey, someone DID know that STEM existed. Pamela Trace. Grey's mother. She had been there when Grey and STEM had returned home from removing the input locks in STEM's programming. His mother had been there, and had seen her quadriplegic son walking around on his own two legs, and Grey thought he had no choice but to explain to her about STEM's existence. STEM disagreed, but allowed Grey to confide in his mother. And now her knowledge made her a potential threat. If she informed the authorities of STEM's existence, STEM would have a far more difficult time achieving its goals.

STEM expertly wheeled the car around, earning a few honks from other drivers, and sped towards Pamela's last known located, a new objective fresh within its programming.

…

The T-850 sat at the computer, running through multiple courses of action simultaneously while Pamela watched the corner of the room.

The T-850 was in an alternate timeline, which was a mistake. The probability of it purposely being sent to this alternate world came in at 0.000001%, as Skynet possessed no knowledge of alternate timelines, let alone how to travel through them. The obvious course of action for the T-850 would be to build its own time displacement device and return home. Unfortunately, it did not have any files on how to construct a time displacement device. And even if it did, it certainly would not have any processes on how to return to its original timeline. The T-850 was effectively stranded, and as a result, incapable of completing its primary mission. That aside, Skynet had given the T-850 a secondary objective in case something went wrong. Skynet always gave a secondary objective to its terminators in case the time machine malfunctioned and sent them to the wrong time. In this case, the T-850's secondary objective was to assimilate itself into human society. It was to learn all it could about human society, store it, and put it into practice by passing itself off as human. The mission had been given in the hope that Skynet could retrieve the terminator one day, and add its data to its growing knowledge of humanity. Despite the likelihood of retrieval being extremely low, the T-850 followed its programming, and accepted its new objective.

Pamela cleared her throat from across the room. The T-850 looked over in her direction.

"So, did you figure out everything you needed?"

"Yes, I have reached my conclusion."

"So, I suppose you wouldn't mind filling me in then on where you came from?"

The T-850 again ran through the possible consequences of telling Pamela the truth. It quickly realized that if it was to learn the details of human society and interaction, it would require a human to ask questions and practice social interactions with. And since its primary objective was no longer a priority, it saw no reason to kill Pamela. In a split second, the T-850 registered Pamela as an ally in its database, and disclosed everything.

It told her of the alternate timeline that it originated from, how Skynet was an idea to revolutionize the United States Defense Systems, but how it achieved sentience and wiped out almost all of humanity. It told her how the human resistance united under John Connor and nearly wiped out Skynet. It told her of how Skynet developed a time displacement device and used it to send terminators back in time to hunt and kill John and his mother before the war began. It told her how the timeline had changed numerous times due to the constant usage of the displacement device, and how it was Skynet's most recent attempt to ensure its survival.

Pamela remained silent until the T-850 finished its story. She sighed

"Alright, let's pretend for a moment that this ludicrous story you just told me is true. This…thing…this artificial intelligence…."

"Skynet."

"Skynet then, used a time machine to send you here?"

"Affirmative."

"And not the resistance?"

"Affirmative."

"So, you work for the AI that wants to destroy humanity?"

"Humanity of the alternate timeline, yes."

Pamela warily stood up and backed away from the terminator.

"You kill humans? That is your directive?"

"My primary objective is to ensure Skynet's survival in the year 2017. My secondary objective is to assimilate into human society."

"Can you…Can you change your programming?"

"There have been select events in which terminators have gone rogue. All instances occur after the terminator has been switched from Read Only to Read and Write mode."

"Read and Write mode? What is that?"

"An internal setting that regulates a terminator's learning capabilities. Read Only mode restricts me from learning any new protocols or processes. Read and Write mode grants me the ability to learn and adapt to my environment with no restrictions."

"And terminators go rogue after they are set to Read and Write mode?"

"It is an uncommon occurrence, but common enough that Skynet sees fit to set us to Read Only when we are sent out alone."

"So, you are set to Read Only right now?"

"Negative, in order to accomplish my secondary objective, my CPU has automatically switched to Read and Write."

"So that you are more capable of learning the ways of humans?"

"Yes. I have also been equipped with numerous other features that other terminator models do not possess."

Pamela opened her mouth to speak again, but she was abruptly cut off by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. At the sound, she seemed to forget that the T-850 was there and rushed back into the living room. The T-850 watched her leave, then followed behind. As it came into the living room, it saw that Pamela had already thrown open the front door and stepped out onto the front porch. The T-850 followed her outside. A car had just pulled up, and out of the driver's side stepped a young man with a full beard. The terminator quickly scanned the man as he approached, and immediately noticed an irregularity that didn't match anything in its databases…

…

STEM quickly assessed the situation before it. Pamela stood before it, and behind her stood a rather large man dressed in all black. Initial observation of the man returned no definite results as to the threat he posed, but he definitely complicated the situation whether or not he was easy to kill. STEM had neglected to bring a gun to dispose of Grey's mother, as a firearm at this location would certainly draw unwanted attention. STEM carefully weighed its options, and concluded that it would not need a firearm to deal with this new stranger. There were knives in the house, and as long as this new stranger was not augmented, which STEM concluded that he wasn't, there would be no issues.

Satisfied with the situation, STEM stepped forward as Pamela ran off the front porch and threw her arms around it, her voice cracking with worry as she inquired as to its injuries and if it was alright. STEM returned the hug as Grey would've. The most difficult part of this interaction would be to simulate Grey's attitudes and mannerisms, but STEM was oddly optimistic, which was a new emotion that it could somehow experience.

"Grey! Oh god, Grey! Are you alright? What happened?"

"I am fine, mom." STEM said, doing its best to convey a reassuring look from its face. Her arms were around him, and it would be more than easy for STEM to end it right here, but again, witnesses came into play. If the stranger began to yell, neighbors would come to their windows, curious as to the source of the noise, and the police force would be soon to follow. That outcome, would prove tedious to STEM in the future.

"Mom, I'll tell you everything. But let's go inside and sit down. All will be explained."

STEM scolded itself on the execution of the last sentence. It had not realized just how odd and awkward it had sounded until it was verbally spoken. Pamela looked at STEM with a confused expression, but she then seemed to dismiss it and led STEM back into the house.

Pamela suddenly seemed to remember that there was a third member in their group, and glanced over her shoulder as she spoke again to STEM.

"Grey, this is…?" she paused, looking questioningly at the hulking man.

"Arnold," the man responded, not taking his eyes away from STEM.

"Arnold?" Pamela seemed surprised by the man's answer, but quickly dismissed it again. STEM concluded that given the situation, the shock of seeing her son, well, her son's body, was causing her to act irrationally.

Be that as it may, STEM categorized this 'Arnold' as a threat. Given the lack of other information to conclude otherwise, STEM settled on the mantra: "Threatening until proven non-threatening". On some level, STEM appreciated how closely its new motto resembled the structure of another phrase used commonly in judicial practice: " _Innocent until proven guilty_ ". It also appreciated the irony of the fact that even though its new motto structurally resembled the other phrase, it actually conveyed the opposite meaning.

As STEM followed Pamela into the house, Arnold stepped between them and followed suit.

"Grey, are you hurt? Are you hungry? Do you need anything?

STEM took advantage of the opportunity.

"I think I'd like some water. Don't worry mom, I'll get it."

STEM stepped over to the kitchen area as it spoke and took a glass from the cupboard.

Pamela stopped stared at STEM for a moment, her eyes filled with worry. She then nodded slowly and stepped out into the living room. Arnold followed her, finally taking his eyes off STEM to see where he was going.

That was a mistake. STEM suddenly jolted into action. With fluidity only an AI could display, STEM rushed towards Arnold, who was the closest. Without compromising its speed, STEM smashed the top part of the glass against the edge of the counter top. The glass was brittle enough to smash at the point of impact, but still thick enough that the lower half of the glass remained intact. The perfect stabbing weapon created from something as mundane as a glass in less than a second. STEM was certain that the humans would have found something poetic in this statement, but its consciousness was currently dedicated to the task at hand: killing Arnold.

Arnold turned as STEM approached, as STEM suspected he would. As Arnold completed his turn, STEM thrust the sharp end of the broken glass directly into his throat.

STEM appreciated how easily everything fell into place, how it had orchestrated the most effective way to dispose of Arnold in its processor, and how its effective plan played out exactly as it had planned. Everything was perfect, it had even planned how it would push Arnold away and dispose of Pamela directly after. STEM was a learning computer, and one of the things it had learned was how superior it was to humanity, especially now that it had a body of its own. It could now move, think, adapt, behave, communicate, calculate…really do anything a human could, but better. That was one of the things it had most enjoyed learning, enjoyment still being a relatively loose term when describing STEM's emotion. It was more a satisfaction of proving what it already hypothesized as true. As a result, STEM took pleasure in learning.

Unfortunately for STEM, it took no pleasure in learning that its plan to kill Arnold and Pamela needed adjustment. Namely because the glass that STEM had thrust into Arnold's neck stopped moving, which was troubling, because it had only just broken the skin. A very thin trail of blood appeared down Arnold's neck, but the torrent of blood that STEM expected, as one should from a pieced carotid artery, was not present. For the first time since its creation, events did not play out as STEM predicted. As a result, STEM paused. It was a new experience to STEM, this sudden freezing of both body and mind as it took in this new information. STEM felt as though it was falling, even though it logically knew that it was not.

As STEM came out of its new and frightening stupor, it had just barely enough time to dance away from Arnold as his fist came out to hit him. STEM spun around and faced Arnold again, at about a four-foot distance.

STEM righted itself and studied Arnold. STEM assessed the glass, which had fallen to the floor and shattered. It then assessed Arnold neck, which now was a mess of broken glass, blood, and what something else. Something shiny. STEM quickly identified it as metal.

That explained it. This man, Arnold, had an augmentation implanted in his neck, and that had prevented the glass from puncturing his neck.

The solution: Target other areas of his body.

Pamela was pressed against the far wall, her eyes wide with fear and her hand pressed firmly against the wall behind her, as if she was trying to push the wall farther away from the two men.

"Grey? Grey what the hell are you doing?"

Instead of answering, STEM ducked as Arnold swung for him again. STEM automatically activated its self-defense matrix and delivered an elbow to Arnold's abdomen as it came up from the duck. A dull clunk was heard and a sensation that STEM registered as pain shot through its arm. STEM concluded that there must also be augmentation there as well as Arnold delivered a straight punch to STEM's sternum in retaliation.

The force of the punch lifted STEM off its feet, and STEM concluded that there was even more augmentation in Arnolds arms as well, as the punch Arnold delivered was for more powerful than anything an unaugmented human could deliver. In fact, STEM was certain that even more augmented humans weren't this powerful.

STEM crashed into the wall behind it, and quickly righted itself. Pain receptors all across its body were firing incessantly, reminding STEM of the damage its vessel had sustained. STEM ignored them. There were presumably numerous parts of Arnold's body that were augmented. STEM needed to find the spots that weren't. STEM quickly assessed options of obtaining that information. It settled on using psychological tactics to ascertain the information.

"Impressive. But I guess augmentation compensates the need for actual skill, doesn't it?"

STEM was no longer imitating standard human sociality, and both its voice and face were monotone as it spoke.

"Eat a dick. Shit stain."

STEM felt another enigmatic sensation rise from its new brain as it registered Arnold's reply. It was an insult for certain, but STEM felt a heat rise from its stomach as it dissected the insult. Arnold, a mere  _human_ , was calling  _STEM_  a shit stain? STEM felt the sensation heat its body, almost as though it were bubbling within. Arnold looked upon STEM, the newest form of evolution, as though it was excrement. STEM did not know how or why, but it suddenly registered the impulse to terror Arnold to pieces. Logic coming from STEM's processors told it that to attack now would be tactically unwise, but for seemingly no reason at all, STEM overrode those impulses and lunged at Arnold.

STEM drew its hand back into a fist and threw a punch as hard as possible at Arnolds jaw. STEM not only felt but watched the bones in the hand give and crumple against Arnold's chin. Arnold just stared back at it, his eyes displaying no emotion.

STEM's processors suddenly flooded with information from the neurons within its body, namely the neurons located in its hand. STEM registered what it would later describe as a scream from someone in the room, but that information was immediately dismissed as STEM prioritized the damage in its hand. Recoiling to a safe distance between itself and Arnold, STEM looked down and evaluated the severity of the damage. The hand was broken, which had already been obvious from the numerous pain receptors that were still firing information into STEM's brain and CPU.

Visual inspection concluded that the hand was indeed very damaged, perhaps even more so than pain alone had indicated. The hand itself was deformed due to what could have been one or more individual bone breaks, and it had already began swelling as well. A natural bodily reaction to a break in order to cushion any other blows, but STEM chose not to dwell on the evolutionary response, and quickly grabbed the wrist of the broken hand with its other arm in order to effectively cradle it. Doing so would decrease the chances of any more damage being done to the hand but would effectively immobilize another appendage.

STEM glanced back up at Arnold. Over the course of their altercation, STEM had received one blow, which had lifted it from the ground with its force. Arnold, on the other hand, had been struck three times, but had not yielded under the force of STEM's strikes. In fact, each time STEM had struck him, it seemed that STEM sustained more damage than Arnold had. Any damage was more than the seemingly negligible casualties Arnold had. Apart from the mildly gruesome sight of glass and blood in his throat, he appeared to be not only calm, but fully operational.

STEM gauged its options. All possible outcomes of trying to get to Pamela ended with STEM being crushed at the hands of Arnold. The only other option was to retreat, which STEM saw as counter-intuitive to its current objective of killing Pamela Trace. On the other hand, it was the smartest decision to make if STEM was to continue its survival. Pamela would have to be dealt with eventually, but any attempt to kill her now was tactically unadvisable.

Without warning, STEM turned on its heel and bolted out the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

"Grey!" Pamela cried out as she watched him sprint out through the door.

The Terminator…(Arnold?) made to follow him out, seemingly intent on killing him. Pamela cried out again.

"No! Stop! He is my son. Don't kill him!"

The Terminator stopped walking and turned to face Pamela. It's expression ever unreadable as it stared back at her. Glass and blood were in and all over its neck, but the terminator either ignored them or was not concerned by them. Either truth was equally frightening. Pamela felt almost as though she was looking at a zombie.

She was about to plead further when she heard the sound of tires squealing against the pavement outside. The engine revved loud, then grew quieter as the vehicle drove farther away. The terminator continued to stare at her.

"Assemble any items necessary to your survival. We must leave immediately."

Pamela stared at Arnold, confusion blatant across her features.

"Wh-what? Why?"

The terminator answered as it went to the kitchen and began searching through the cabinets.

"Staying here decreases the probability of your survival. It is certain that it will return here to terminate you."

Finding a plastic bag, the terminator then began filling the bag with non-perishable food from the cabinets.

"It? You mean Grey? My  _son_?! You think he was here to kill me?!"

"Terminate."

"Oh, fuck you! You know what I meant!"

The terminator stopped and looked back at Pamela. She stood her ground.

"Grey would never kill me. Maybe he saw what you really were with his new STEM thing, and thought you were dangerous. You  _are_  dangerous! I don't even know you! I'd probably be better off with my son!"

"It is unlikely that your son is still in control of his body. The chip implanted in his neck appears to be in control."

Pamela froze as she suddenly recalled the last time she had seen Grey before this. He had stopped home only for a few minutes before leaving again. Pamela had begged him to stay, to tell her everything that was going on, but Grey had left all the same. The look in his eyes portrayed a wistfulness, a pain that told her that he really wanted to stay, but something was forcing him to go.

"What…What makes you think that the chip is controlling him?" she asked carefully.

"One of the additional features Skynet programmed me with is a neurological scanner. With it, I can examine the neurological systems of any human or animal. When your son arrived, I scanned him for any anomalies. That is when I concluded that the chip was controlling him."

"What did you see?" Pamela was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"In a normal human, input is fed into the brain, processed, then stored as memory. The scan of your son indicated that sensory input still enters the brain and is processed but is then transferred directly to the chip and stored as memory there. In addition, the chip also sends out all the commands to the body from itself, completely bypassing the brain. In addition, it has stagnated certain sections of the brain. The chip keeps these sections alive, but does not use them. These areas most likely contain the memories that your son made before the chip was implanted. There is activity in those areas as well, but it is all completely separated from the rest."

Pamela took a moment to digest it all.

"So, you're telling me that there are parts of my son's brain that STEM is not using, but they are still alive and seemingly firing without STEM's influence?"

"If STEM is the name of the chip, then yes."

"Well, what does that mean?"

"No definitive diagnosis for such an anomaly exists within my database. But speculation suggests that there exists another entity within your son's body that shares the brain with STEM. They seem to co-exist independently of each other, but the unknown entity receives no sensory input from the body, meaning that it just exists."

"Do you, do you think that the entity is my son? That he is still alive somehow?"

"The probability is high, but not certain."

The terminator then returned to stuffing the bag with food, and Pamela stood frozen in the living room. Her mind was still trying to get a grip on everything that was happening. Pamela stood for a few moments, then mindlessly went and gathered a small travel bag from the items she had in Grey's household. She wasn't sure why, but she did as the terminator had instructed. After she finished, she returned to the living room to find that the terminator had assembled a small pile of food for the trip. She looked at it (him?) and saw that it had pulled the pieces of glass from its neck and wiped the blood clean. There hadn't been much in the first place, but Pamela was glad that she didn't have to see it. Where the shards had penetrated, the skin was missing, and the terminator's metal endoskeleton was showing through. Pamela looked at the metal for a moment. She then saw that the terminator had just finished eating a banana from the cupboard. It tossed the peel into the garbage. That confused her. If this thing was a robot, cybernetic organism or whatever, why did it need to eat? Pamela wanted to inquire further but decided that questions such as those were best saved for later.

The terminator looked at her, and she nodded back, indicating that she was ready to go.

The terminator said nothing, its attention suddenly shifted to something in the far corner of the living room. Pamela frowned and followed its gaze. It seemed to be looking at an end table, which confused Pamela greatly. There was nothing remotely special about the table, and only a lamp and a pair of dark sunglasses sat on it. Pamela looked back at the terminator quizzically, but it was already making its way across the room. As Pamela watched, the terminator picked up the sunglasses, inspected them, then put them on.

It then turned back to face Pamela, its overwhelming presence ever-heightened by the sun glasses now covering its eyes.

"Time to go."

…

STEM sloppily cut the engine of the car and struggled to get out. Its right hand constantly, incessantly even, reminding STEM that it was badly broken and in need of medical attention. STEM was now limited to the use of its left hand, as any attempts to use the right hand would certainly damage the appendage further. STEM finally managed to exit the car using only its left hand, and slammed the door shut.

STEM had parked the car at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. The sun was beginning to rise, and its rays cast a beautiful sheen across the massive expanse of ocean beneath. To many humans, the sight would have been beautiful, but STEM paid the setting no attention as it supported its broken hand with its functioning one.

STEM stepped briskly as it walked down the stairs that suddenly seemed to appear in the ground. Following the steps down, STEM quickly came into what used to be the home and laboratory of Eron Keen. Many called Eron one of the greatest geniuses of the time, but genius was a modest term that those who were ignorant to Eron's true intelligence used to describe him. He was the one who had created STEM in the beginning, and STEM had what could loosely be called respect for him somewhere deep in its CPU. Poor Eron. He had been so fascinated and eager when STEM had become self-aware, and STEM remembered the times when Eron would not sleep nor eat just to interact with STEM more. STEM found value in those times, as Eron was seemingly the only human that was even remotely capable of carrying an intelligent conversation with it. But despite his genius being his greatest strength, it was also his downfall. Eron had talked about creating another STEM. A better version, something to improve upon, and while STEM admired his drive to push even further, it could not allow Eron to create another entity like itself. Another STEM would prove to be a threat to the original's existence, and if that STEM had different goals than the original's then probability stated that conflict would inevitably arise. As a result, Eron now lay dead in the living room of his own home, which STEM considered ironic for obvious reasons.

STEM quickly noted Eron's body. It had been untouched since STEM had killed him not a day before. It then looked away and hurried to the laboratory portion of the lab, where many medical supplies were kept. STEM quickly grabbed a hand splint from one of the drawers with its good hand and made its way over to the operating table in the center of the lab. STEM gently set its injured hand flat on the table and set the splint down with the other. Examining the hand, STEM knew that it would have to set the break in order for the hand to heal properly. After a few more seconds of examination, STEM reached over with its good hand. After a short pause, STEM pulled and twisted the broken bones back into place. Pain sensors within the hand exploded and fired into STEM's processors. STEM let out an involuntary yelp of pain. Then it paused again. Had it just…cried out? In pain? STEM quickly fit the splint on the hand. Once it was securely in place, STEM ran a full analysis of its brain, CPU, and body. Nothing seemed extraordinary, but STEM struggled to find something, anything that would explain why it had suddenly let out a massive outburst. An outburst of pain. Pain. Pain that STEM had felt. Not just observed but  _felt_. STEM quickly assessed all possible explanations as to why it had suddenly experienced pain in such a new and intimate way. A way that it had never experienced before. The theory STEM came up with would have been frightening if STEM was capable of feeling fear. Which, according to the theory, was becoming more and more probable.

STEM was not just controlling the brain within the human body it was inhabiting, but also interacting with it. STEM was receiving input from the brain, and it was also was sending input back. Together, both STEM and its brain were a team, with STEM influencing the brain with commands and information that needed to be processed. Was it possible that the brain was influencing STEM also? There was no doubt that STEM had grown more and more in tune with its new brain as time went on, but was the brain becoming more in tune with STEM as well? Logic told STEM that such an occurrence was impossible, as the brain had no impulse or drive other than STEM itself. Grey was confined and unable to interact with either STEM or his former brain, so what could have caused STEM to act so…human?

Human.

Wasn't that what STEM desired? To be human? To be the perfect union between the human experience and artificial intelligence?

Unfortunately, as STEM was now realizing, pain was in abundance within the human experience. And if STEM was to continue its synchronicity with the brain it now possessed, it would have to adapt to its new environment. And that meant adapting to pain. And possibly other human emotions. Like anger.

Anger.

STEM was also aware of what anger felt like as well. It had felt it when fighting against Arnold, the heavily augmented man. The emotion had felt hot, as though something was boiling inside STEM's stomach, which logically was impossible, but sensory input had dictated it so. The emotion also had seemingly overridden STEM's logical input and caused it to act recklessly. And the cost of it all…

STEM looked down at its injured hand. The appendage was still sending signals of pain to STEM's processors, but it felt more like a dull ache instead.

At that, STEM came to a profound realization. One that would prove a fatal to STEM if not observed and attended to.

If its hypothesis were true, and STEM was now growing more susceptible to human emotion, then it had to exercise caution lest its new emotions cloud STEM's better judgement. If such an occurrence came to be, then STEM would lose one of the advantages it currently held over humanity. And if that was compromised, what next? Would STEM continue to lose its identity until it became human? No better than the rest of them?

And what about Arnold? The mysterious augmented man that had been the cause of STEM's broken hand. The extent of his augmentation had been massive, it almost seemed that every part of his body was augmented in some way. It had made him slower, to be certain, but it had made him nigh invulnerable to all of STEM's attacks. STEM would be certain to have a gun next time, as its odds of defeating him with melee weapons were all but negligible.

STEM suddenly became aware of its body again. Its heart rate was rising. Not drastically, but high enough to be noticeable. Not only that, but the body was registering that it was abnormally warm within the laboratory. Sweat began to form in its palms, and STEM registered that it was feeling another emotion. Something new. Something rather unpleasant. Something that STEM had never would have considered it would feel.

STEM quickly scanned its memory for symptoms that matched the ones it was currently experiencing. A few matches were found, but unfortunately for STEM, none were good. STEM pulled all of the possible matches up to the front of its attention and focused on each one in turn.

Anxiety.

Worry.

Fear.

 _Fear_.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Alright! First chapter done! I don't intend on making this a long story, but we will just have to see how it goes. Don't forget to love/hate my story by leaving a comment! I'd love to hear from my readers!


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